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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29667789">Midnight Rendezvous</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaitiedid/pseuds/Kaitiedid'>Kaitiedid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Inktober Prompts 2020 But Make It Words [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Inktober Prompt but no art, M/M, Reunion, late night meeting, very soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:28:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29667789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaitiedid/pseuds/Kaitiedid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's definitely someone following him. He’s too tired to be mugged, but here he is, walking in the dark with someone’s eyes boring a hole into his back. At least he has his trusty pocket knife. They're going to regret messing with Leorio Paladiknight. </p>
<p>Day five: Blade</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Inktober Prompts 2020 But Make It Words [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983212</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Midnight Rendezvous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One of my friends just looked over my Ao3 and okay, maybe soft is my brand. You can pull it from my cold dead fingers. <br/>I'm finishing these out of order, so I've added the prompt into the summaries for reference. Thank you for reading, even though it's super not Inktober anymore. Happy late Valentine's Day!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There's someone following him. How he can say, he’s not entirely sure. They’re probably using </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zetsu</span>
  </em>
  <span>, since he can’t sense anyone. But even so, he can feel an intense heat between his shoulder blades. He’s too tired to be mugged, but here he is, walking in the dark with someone’s eyes boring a hole into his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nonchalantly, he slips a hand into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around his trusty pocket knife. It’s been a while since he’s had to use it- probably not since Yorknew City, really. But he’s still in practice. Hopefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The road turns, sloping down the hill of this tiny village. It’s a sleepy place, dead quiet even this early at night. His footsteps are the only ones echoing off the walls, so whoever it is is experienced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He starts whistling. Hopefully it masks the sound of him opening the blade and hiding it up his sleeve. For extra measure, he swings his briefcase to the tune, the very picture of carefree. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His reflexes aren’t necessarily the best among Hunters, but he can still sense the presence appearing suddenly behind him. Quick as he can, he swings his arm in a wide arc behind him, blade flashing in the moonlight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before it connects to anything, his wrist slams into something solid, sending the knife flying somewhere into the night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>where’d it-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kurapika</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leorio.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should be asking you the same thing. How did you find me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For someone trying to appear annoyed, he isn’t doing a very good job. He also hasn’t let go of Leorio’s wrist. He can feel the chains and rings through his jacket sleeve, warm from Kurapika’s body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With his other arm, he shrugs. “It’s not like I was trying to follow you. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I was here to help a patient.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Guiltily, Kurapika looks away. A small, vindictive part of him cheers- at least he knows that avoiding them is a dick move. But for once, he doesn’t let his anger dictate his words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- we’ve missed you. And we’ve been worried. It’s good to see you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence between them drags on, long enough for the chirping of late-night insects to start grating on his ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m- I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kurapika looks away again, contemplating something hard enough that his eyes flash red. They’re still that striking color when he whips his head around, pinning Leorio in place with a fiery look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In an instant, Kurapika releases his wrist and grabs Leorio’s necktie, yanking him forward. Because of the slope of the road, they’re almost eye-level.  He’s not wearing his contacts, so he has a perfect view of his irises. The red has faded, now just that soft grey that he’s missed so much. The contacts he uses to hide them are darker and hide all of the little details. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s so busy studying the dark circle around his pupil, the flecks of silver, that it takes a moment to realize that the yanking wasn’t an intimidation tactic- nor was it stopping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their lips meet, soft. And then again and again until he forgets the world outside of his arms. They part slowly, and stay where they are, Kurapika’s arms draped loosely around his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I miss you too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come with me? I know you can’t stay for long, but....” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops. There isn’t much he can say to walk that back. He shouldn’t have asked. There’s no way that Kurapika will say yes to that, he has so much to do-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kurapika laughs at his comically wide eyes and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s been so long since he’s heard that laugh. Someday he’s going to help make sure that he has nothing but things to laugh at, in a world where he no longer has to worry about dark, impossibly tragic things. But for now, all he can offer is his support and hopefully more kissing. He pulls back, taking Kurapika’s hand in his. The car isn’t far from here, and they have a lot to talk about, but it’s a quiet night and a companionable walk sounds perfect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is one thing first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You owe me a new knife.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
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